1. Short Short Story
A Day in the Life
by Barbara Messick
Dani looked out the window at the steady stream of visitors coming to see her mother laid
out. How macabre, she thought. Did we have to see someone in a box before we’d trust
that they were dead? She wondered how many had even seen her in the past ten years. I
guess if you saw someone dead, it made up for not caring enough to stay in touch while
they were living, she thought.
The day was perfect – bright and clean, blue and gold with accents of red, purple and
orange from the bed of tulips and hyacinths framing the driveway with the perfectly
placed trees in the yard of Gibbons – Meredith Funeral Home. Home? Dani’s mother
would not be staying here. Her new home would be Quiet Hills Cemetery or should she
say Quiet Hills Home for the Recently Deceased. It was a perfect day for anything but a
funeral. Yet here she was standing beside the casket like a queen awaiting the adulation
of her subjects. Let the wailing and keening begin
The past week began quietly, but then quickly burst into chaos when her mother died
unexpectantly. On Sunday afternoon, she was happily surfing the net to plan her ideal
vacation to London. By Sunday night she was thrown into a maelstrom of emotions,
uncertainty, and planning of a different sort. Although she was the youngest of her seven
siblings, she was deemed the most capable to handle arrangements. She put her grieving
on hold and took charge of notifying family and friends, holding hands and comforting
her brothers and sisters, nieces and nephews, while talking to funeral directors about
makes and models of the vehicle that would carry her mom to the afterlife.
She gave small tasks to her sisters – go through the family photos and create a collage to
put on an easel at the visitation and pick out an outfit for mom. Her brothers, pretty much
useless, were told to buy coffee to bring to the funeral home and then sit back at look
pretty, well, handsome, anyway.
Dani made decisions based on comments her mom had shared at the funerals of her
husband and friends – no open casket, no big maudlin to-do with priests and pallbearers.
“I just want to be quickly cremated and my ashes washed to the sea,” she’d said, “ashes
to ashes and all that.” Although her family argued the point, she had been adamant, but
she did finally concede that she could be placed in an urn and planted in the cemetery.
It seemed everyone wanted a place to leave flowers if they were so inclined to visit her
on Memorial Day. No one expected it to ever happen, let alone so soon and so suddenly.
She’d only gone to the hospital for tests, after all. But here she lay, waiting for the all the

2. better-you-than-me well-wishers to conclude their responsibilities in sending the newly
deceased forth with all the good wishes of self-righteous karma.
The heavy smell of funeral lilies was nearly overpowering and the thought of a fresh
brew at the coffee house around the corner called to Dani with increasing urgency. She
looked for a sister to take over as the crowd of sightseers diminished. Nothing to see here,
folks, move along, she thought. She’d played her role; someone else could step up and
ride the rest of the wave. She just wanted to have a cup and crash.
She peeked into the ‘comfort room’ and motioned to a sister who grudgingly excused
herself from a tearful aunt. “What?” Elaine hissed.
“I’m going outside for a smoke. Your turn on casket duty”
“You don’t even smoke.”
“Yeah, well I just started five minutes from now.” She walked outside, turned the corner,
and continued down the sidewalk. She kept walking until she was at her mother’s house.
She hadn’t cried yet, but she felt the swell bearing down. She unlocked the front door and
entered the cheery living room. It looked just as it always had, not yet aware that
everything had changed. She plopped down in her mother’s recliner and grabbed the
worn afghan her grandmother had given her parents for their second anniversary. She
hugged it, closing her eyes and breathing in the lingering scent of her mother’s Giorgio
cologne.
She began to sob. The past week had been so full, she never had time to think about what
she’d lost. She’d found strength in a sassy attitude, throwing flippant and disparaging
remarks to and about siblings and other relatives showing her disdain for the entire dreary
tradition. She wanted all of them to believe she was too tough to fall apart over her
mother’s passing. But it was all show and now that the curtains were drawn she dropped
the act.
The sounds of a mower chewing up the lawn next door and a child protesting loudly
about having to come home for dinner reminded her that life around her goes on while
she feels lost, the mooring to her place in the world cut, setting her adrift. As her sobs
slowed, she buried her face in the soft afghan and, exhausted she began to doze.
She jolted, fully awake by a hand caressing her back. “What the…” She jumped up and
swung around, ready to fight the person invading her peace. Stunned, the fight quickly
drained from her and she crumpled to the floor.
Dani slowly regained her senses and remembering the moments before, scanned the room
for the apparition that challenged her sanity. She found her, sitting in the chair Dani had
just left after she’d drained the river of hurt in her heart. She was dressed in old sweats
and drinking a glass of red wine. Weren’t there rules about apparitions and alcohol?

3. “Oh good. You’re back. What happened? I heard this ruckus in here like, like a Canadian
goose in heat. What were you crying about? Heart trouble? What’s the bastard’s name?”
The apparition spoke. Clearly...no spooky music, no sonorous intoning.
Dani couldn’t talk. She just opened and shut her mouth.
“What’s the matter? The peanut peddler trade your tongue for a toaster?”
“It’s you!” Dani knew it once she heard her say peanut peddler. Everyone else she knew
said cat got your tongue. Only her mother asked if the peanut peddler traded it. Her
mother! Her mother was sitting in her chair, drinking wine like nothing had happened,
while everyone was wailing over her casket. Her mother’s ghost, had to be, was here,
behaving just as her mother would have.
“What on earth is the matter with you? You look as though a ghost kissed you right on
the nose.”
“Did you?” Dani asked.
“Did I what?”
“Did you kiss me on the nose?”
“Honey, I think you need this wine more than I do. You’re not making any sense to me”
The ghost snorted. “Humph! Or maybe you already hit the bottle. Little too much?”
“Stop it! Why are you here? You’re making me crazy.” Dani cried
“You?! I’m making YOU crazy? You’re in my house, acting like a fool, sobbing your
heart out. I try to comfort you and pass out like you’ve seen a damn alien and then you’re
not even talking like you have a brain within 10 feet. But I’M making YOU crazy?”
“MOM! You’re dead and I’m talking to you!”
Dead! What the hell are you talking about? I went to the hospital for a few tests. When
I’m released, the doctors said I can’t drive because of sedatives so I call you, I call Kami,
I call Trevor, I call Ellie, I call Natalie. I even call my evil sister, Jane! No one answers. I
end up calling for an Uber. They come. I’m home. And now crickets. No one calls me, no
one checks up to see if I’m okay. I could be dead for all you know.”
Dani starts laughing and laughing while her mom looks at her like she’s lost a whole bag
full of nuts. When she finally catches her breath, she explains that she is dead as far as
everyone knows and someone else is about to take her place under the old oak tree in
Quiet Hills.

4. She picks up her water bottle and toasts her mother. “Welcome back, Mom. That was a
nice short trip and I’m so glad you’re back!”